Nothing bad going on

[attr="class","ninety"]

Megara stood atop the ivory marble stairwell that lead into the Coliseum’s initial reception room, where brave would be Heroes marveled at the polished trophies and awards that were housed on stone shelves that were just out of reach – Hercules had racked up quite a number of accolades saving Thanes from Hades’ ministrations. Lately, that room was frequently jammed packed with either spectators, those competing or those whom had come seeking training from the great Philocalies. Her arms draped across her chest, resting comfortably beneath her ample bosom as she’d begun descending the stairs. She’d smirked to herself as she’d recalled those poor soul’s reactions when they’d met the womanizing satyr, typically it’d ranged from shock, disbelief and seldom disgust. Unfortunately, some were bold enough to question if it was a joke, Oh, now those were simply priceless – Phil’s enraged antics providing her with amusement for hours after the fact.

Once she’d reached the bottom of the stairs, she’d tilted her head back to admire the cerulean skies, savoring the sensation of tranquility that over took her as a handful of wispy clouds drifted by. After perhaps thirty seconds, she’d let her eyes drift back down as she’d inspected the courtyard. It wasn’t a frequent occurrence, although sometimes people were disrespectful enough to litter the grounds with their trash – it wasn’t her job to clean up after grown men. Fortunately, the courtyard was clear of any rubbish, she’d paused to look towards the towering statues, noticing a singular youth that hovered near the wall. Even from afar, she could tell that he was preoccupied with reading something on a piece of parchment. She’d shrugged her shoulders as she’d began to saunter over in his direction, her hips rolling seductively beneath the sheer fabric of her lavender robes.

“Kiddo, you lost?”

She’d inquired, uncertain if perhaps the parchment in his hand was a map.